A Sad Day

Today I attended a funeral. Niall's cousin Sandy lost her husband Chris this week. Sandy is pregnant with their seventh child and Chris was thirty-seven years old. Sandy lost her mother, Niall's Aunt Beth, when she was about the age that her eldest child is now and she lost her father earlier this year.

A multitude of cliches have been bouncing around my head since I heard the news. I don't want to let go of my children. I want to take back every petty argument I've ever had with my husband. I think and rethink my religious beliefs and try to understand how such things can happen.

I've made Chris' death all about my life, and how to live it to it's fullest. Every time I confront such sadness I am reborn to these thoughts and slowly, over time, annoyance creeps back in. I feel grumpy. There isn't any time for smelling flowers. Perhaps Sandy's unspeakable loss can be my gain. Maybe I can learn—this time—to keep the fleeting nature of our days in my heart and go to sleep each night with no regrets. I don't imagine that to be fully achievable, but it seems a worthy goal for today.